Monsters Have Feelings Too
by pixiegiggles
Summary: Just a crazy little crossover between my 2 fave fandoms. AU to the extreme. Set during end of TB season2, and SPN season 4-ish.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Okays, so… I couldn't resist. So, uh… more reviews=more chapters. I have this mostly outlined, but I won't write more unless someone's gonna actually read it, lol.**_

_**So, here's the deal. Leave all your attachments to cannon and timelines at the door… otherwise this will make less sense than Inception ;D**_

_**The setup: Basically, we join Pam towards the end of season 2, right after Eric has left to seek the Queen's counsel on the Maenad. The SPN timeline is during season 4-ish, after Dean has discovered that Sam has been drinking demon blood.**_

_**This little plot bunny started poking me when I began to wonder… just what did Pam do after Eric left to see the Queen (aside from going to give Laff a good scare)? What were Pam and Eric up to during the last couple of episodes of Season 2, when we saw exactly zilch of them? And why were they not involved in rescuing Sookie (and the town of Bon Temps in general) from the Maenad?**_

_**And then, my evil brain wondered… what would Pam think and do if she happened on Sam draining a demon?**_

_**Okay, that's enough blabbing. I give you: Monsters Have Feelings Too**_

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Pamela Ravenscroft was worried.

And she wasn't exactly the fingernail-biting type.

No, in fact, her flawless manicured nails were her pride and joy; the better to examine them studiously, or tap them against her hip when exuding her trademark exasperated boredom and/or barely-contained impatience.

Yet now, she couldn't help but be worried for the welfare of her master. And not because of the immediate danger in which he had placed himself by seeking the counsel of their volatile bitch of a queen, unsolicited and uninvited.

No, that was the least of her worries.

What really did worry her, however, was a telepathic barmaid from Bon Temps, Louisiana; one Miss Sookie Stackhouse.

Or, rather, the things that Sookie Stackhouse was making Eric do—without so much as raising a finger.

That a shifter would be so bold as to actually show up at their establishment and ask for help—no, scratch that—demand it, all upon the premise of good will towards Supes, or some such shit, was bad enough. That Eric would even consider agreeing to such a thing was even worse. But, most alarming, was the fact that not only was he willing to barter his services in exchange for Sookie, but that he would carelessly admit to such a desire to a shifter who would obviously never even _consider_ agreeing to such a tradeoff, or a tribute, or whatever you want to call it.

Had her master really not known this was the case, or did he simply not care? He had either lost all touch with reality, or had simply chosen to ignore it, and she wasn't sure which one made her more scared.

Not to mention the fact that he'd allowed those nasty little mutts to tag along with the shifter, _into_ their bar. _Not even a foot away from where she'd stood, for Chrissake._ God, the repugnant smell of those horrid little humans would remain stuck to the back of her throat for days. Just thinking about it now made her spit in disgust, _yet again_, trying to get it out; but to no avail.

It was stuck, worse than gum at the bottom of your fucking Jimmy Choos.

So, she was more than a little distracted, to say the least.

If vampires slept, instead of dying for the day, she would probably be experiencing insomnia. As it was, she was currently experiencing a permanent state of pissed as fuck. She found herself wanting to fuck a zombie—and not in a good way. Well, at least not in a way that would be pleasurable for the zombie.

So she took to running, as she often did when she needed to let her mind roam free. She might grumble at the suggestion to her master when he demands it of her, but they both knew it was just for effect. Seeing as she wasn't gifted in the flying department, vamp-speed running was the next best thing. You could almost say it made her feel alive. But, then, that would be a pretty corny vampire joke. Even for her.

So she ran, letting her feet take her where they may, at a speed that made her invisible to the slow eyes of breathers. As she did, she grew more and more frustrated, because this was not helping her to see things any more clearly. Not in the least. If anything, she felt like she was sinking deeper and deeper into the muddy mire. She could not see any plausible path out.

In fact, her mind was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the man and his victim until she was practically right on top of them.

* * *

Sam knew he'd found his dinner as soon as he passed her, running along the side of the road.

It had been a long week, possibly the longest of his life, he thought bitterly. That is, since he'd developed a taste for demon blood. And it wasn't even over yet.

When Dean had insisted they go investigate a string of gruesome murders in some backwater suburb of Shreveport, Louisiana, he'd had no choice but to follow his brother dutifully. Even if it meant being far away from Ruby, his only source for the blood he now craved.

After sniffing around town for a few days, Dean finally admitted that while the murders seemed excessively weird, and the town of Bon Temps even weirder, it wasn't their kind of weird. But, of course, they were way too close to New Orleans for Dean to pass up the chance to practice his bead-granting skills.

Who knew how long it would be before Sam would be able to drag Dean out of here?

So, just as soon as they were settled in their motel and Dean had zonked out for the night, Sam snuck out, looking for a demon to feed on. He'd been driving around aimlessly for over an hour now, and he knew that the longer he stayed out here, the higher the risk he was running that his brother would wake up and realize he was gone. And the less likely it was that he would buy some lame ass excuse, like that he'd gone out to grab a soda.

Yeah, he'd already used that gem one too many times. And his brother was much more suspicious now that he'd found out about Sam's taste for the demon juice.

It only made Sam hate himself that much more.

So, he was just about to give up and head back, when he finally found his target. Pulling over to the side of the road, he watched her approach in the rearview mirror. She was running pretty fast, but she had her eyes closed, like she was enjoying it, so he wasn't quite sure if she was running from something or just running for the hell of it.

One thing was certain though; she had demon in her. He didn't know exactly how he knew this, nor did he care.

You see, hunger does strange things to you.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open and met his in the mirror. Unblinking, straight on. She'd obviously spotted him.

_Lookin' at me, lookin' at you …._

Sam shook his head, chiding himself for being ridiculous.

After a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure that they really were the only two people around, he sprang out of the Impala. They both stood there for a moment, frozen, sizing each other up. Then, she took one, two and three tentative steps back, before spinning around and booking it in the same direction she'd come from.

Sam followed, easily closing the distance between them. As he neared, the smell of her blood hit his nostrils, infusing his movement with an urgency that granted him beyond-human speed.

Oh yes, hunger definitely did strange things to you.

He tackled her from behind, dragging her just far enough off the road so they would not be visible to any passing cars. He hunched over her body, ripping at her throat savagely. Chugging the sweet elixir down greedily, he let out a moan that was half pleasure, half pain at the guilt of that pleasure. He totally lost himself to it; his eyes rolling back in his head as the liquid slid into his throat and across his mouth and down his chin, utterly oblivious to his surroundings.

He knew it was dangerous; his decades as a hunter of all that went bump in the night would have told him that, even if his instincts hadn't. But he simply couldn't bring himself to care for anything but the blood meal.

And that was why he didn't even sense the blonde vampire as she approached, not even when she halted abruptly when _she_ noticed _him_, with far more noise than she would normally allow herself to make, nor when she stalked over to him and knocked him out cold.

All he knew was that one minute his mouth was filled with the blood he'd been craving so badly, and the next … everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Helloooo again! Thanks for the response guys! Now, d'you think we could maybe go for maybe 15 reviews? Hmm? *bats lashes*_

_Okay, so, _86_ asked a good question, so I wanted to post the answer here: The demon Sam was dining on was an SPN type demon. However, there are also TB-world ghouls. Not sure if the latter will make an appearance, though._

_Also, I will be denoting text messages in bold italic from here on out.  
_

_Thanks to the awesometastical chiisai_kitty for betaing this at super-vamp speed on the fly. Love ya!_

_Disclaimer: Don't own any of it._

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Sam woke up spluttering as water splashed all over his face. Blinking his eyes open, he struggled against the bindings that held his arms above his head, only to feel the chains digging further into his skin.

The clicking of heels echoed and bounced off the walls as his captor walked over to a table and arranged an impressive array of torture instruments.

Sam let his head dip as far as the restraints would allow. Noticing that the set of legs those heels belonged to were not too hard on the eyes—at all—he let his eyes roam up those shapely calves and thighs and linger on the hot leather-clad ass, being careful, of course, to keep his head down and his body as limp as possible.

Even though his shaggy hair hung down and nearly covered his entire face, Pam was not fooled. Even if she had not been able to catch the change in his breathing pattern, she would have had to be a seriously damaged vampire not to be almost knocked over by the scent of his arousal. Her head shot up as soon as it hit her, a fangy grin spreading across her face as she instantly dropped the knife she had been caressing and forgot all about all the fun instruments within her grasp.

She zoomed over to her prisoner with vampire speed and stopped inches away from him. Tilting her head, she took in his faux-unconsciousness, her smile crossing over into wicked territory.

His breath grew harder and faster, but since he still kept his head down, it provided Pam the most delicious view of the blood pumping faster and faster through the veins of his massive neck, not to mention the ever-increasing intoxicating scent of his fear mixed with arousal. She growled deep in her throat, her fangs descending with an unmistakable pop.

She reached out her hand and buried it in the fluffy cloud of his hair, causing his whole body to jerk from the unexpected contact. But after his initial lapse in control, he was careful not to show any further physical response, studiously keeping his head down, although that angle did afford him a fantastic view of Pam's rack, precariously balanced above her leather corset.

Pam was growing tired of the bad acting. Her nails grazed at his scalp as she slid her fingers down to the nape of his neck, then grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. Hard.

Their eyes met as she forced his head almost all the way back.

"Rise n' shine, sleepy head," she purred as she hovered above him and traced the line of his angered, clenching jaw with one of her perfectly-manicured fingernails.

Sam pursed his lips and glared in answer, before shutting his eyes against the heavenly feel of her nail scraping against his skin. It felt so good, he actually had to bite down on his lower lip, like some horny heroine in a smutty vampire novel.

This rather pleased Pam.

She used the pad of her thumb to trace Sam's lower lip before tugging it free from his teeth. "Now, we can do it the easy way, or the hard way."

Sam's eyes popped open, and Pam met his gaze with a saccharine-sweet smile. "So what'll it be, _Sammy_?" she drew out the second syllable of his nickname in a sing-song mocking tone.

Sam's eyes widened in utter shock. "Only my brother calls me that," he whined, yanking his head out of her grasp. The light bulb only took another moment to go off. "Wait a sec. How d'you know my name?"

Pam snickered. "Oh. Because that's what your girlfriend called you in the multitude of panicked texts you received." She released him and walked over to the table, picking up a cellphone and waiving it around to indicate it was the source of her intell.

"My … what?" Sam huffed, his eyes flashing with indignation. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Pam pressed some buttons and began to scroll through the messages. "Hmm … let's see here."

_**Where r u? **_

**Dude? **

**Ok, srsly. Just text me back n let me know ur ok**

**R U pissed at me? what'd I do?**

**I thought we agreed you wouldn't do this to me again Sammy.**

**ET phone home. Now bitch.**

**WTF Sammy? Where the hell r u?**

She looked up at him with a self-satisfied smirk. "Just a small selection out of the numerous messages left by one Dean Winchester. A strange name for a girl, but nonetheless. She does seem quite concerned for you. It's rather … precious. You also have some voicemail messages, but I did not check those. After all, I didn't want to be too nosy."

"Oh, of course not," Sam mumbled and gave her a token smile.

"Though you must be careful," she clucked. "Abby says you must establish boundaries early on in a relationship, or you will lose yourself."

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it right back up.

Did she just quote Dear Abby? What the fuck kind of vampire reads Dear Abby, much less finds the opportunity to casually drop it into conversation? Dipping his head down, he finally managed to mutter a response. "That's … that's not my girlfriend."

Pam dropped the phone back on the table with a loud clatter. "Right. Whatever you have to tell yourself."

She was back at Sam's side in the next instant, wrenching his head backwards once again. "We are done with pleasantries here. Now, you _will_ tell me why you were draining that vampire."

Sam's mouth hung open before he could remember to shut it. When he finally managed to get his thoughts together, he responded, "She was not a vampire."

Pam arched a skeptical brow. "Then what other reason would a human have for drinking blood?"

Sam's eyes darted from his captor to his surroundings, assessing his options.

"I don't have all night, breather." Pam's cool hand tightening around his throat snapped Sam's attention back to her.

"She was a demon," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"A demon? Like a _ghoul_?" Pam made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. "Well, whatever. That still doesn't answer my question, now does it? Why would you be drinking her blood?"

Sam clamped his mouth down. There was no way he was going to answer that. Literally, there was no way of answering that without digging himself an even deeper hole. He wasn't sure which would be worse—if this vampire actually _did_ believe that he was a demon-blood-sucking freak, or if she didn't believe him and would come the conclusion that he was either lying or completely off his rocker. So he kept his mouth shut and tried to find a spot on the ceiling to concentrate on.

"Oh, so we're going that route, are we?" Pam said, sinking her head down to his neck and taking a deep whiff before releasing him. "What a pity I will be enjoying this far more than you, Sammy."

Sam glowered.

Pam practically skipped over to her table of torture, her eyes dancing over the much-loved implements. Picking up a small leather case, she walked back towards him. She opened up the case to reveal a set of dainty little knives; they looked like letter openers, only much, much sharper. After studying them carefully, she settled on one and picked it up with glee. "You see, _Sam_, the state of Louisiana has had an upswing in vampire drainings recently, and our area is no exception. I am duty-bound to help my sheriff minimize the drainer population in these parts. Such a shame though," she ran the flat blade of the knife along Sam's lips, "to mar that hot little pout of yours."

She shrugged, an evil smile curling at her lips as she tilted her head back, searching out the most attractive spot on his neck to start her work. But then, her body suddenly convulsed.

Sam looked on, somewhat intrigued, a little scared, but more turned on than he cared to admit, as she quivered above him in vampire speed. It was kind of like watching a porno in fast forward.

All too soon, though, her eyes popped open. "Ah, it seems our fun will have to be put on pause," she winked at him as she stowed away the knife.

"Oh, honey. I'm ho-ome." A deep, male voice sang out as a new set of footsteps echoed in the torture chamber. "Oh, and would you look at this … you found a new toy. What did I tell you about strays, Pam?"

Pam zoomed over in the direction of the voice.

Sam strained his head and managed to catch just a glimpse of his captor bowing her head to the tall and lanky blond male who had just joined them.

"Master. Back so soon?"

"Not nearly soon enough, Pam," Eric replied. "How long has it been in Real World time? I've been stuck in Queen Sophie Anne Yahtzee time."

They both shivered in disgust before sharing a laugh.

"Only one night," Pam replied. "So was your trip at least … productive?"

"I suppose it depends on how you look at it," Eric replied, the irritation hard to miss in his tone. "The Queen did have some advice on how to deal with this Maenad, but it was only given to Compton. I was, in fact, ordered to stay away. From Ms. Stackhouse, that is."

"Oh, how unfortunate."

"Indeed. However, _you_ are not under the same orders."

"If I have to ruin one more pair of pumps for that little—" Pam whined, placing a hand on her hip.

"Pam," Eric warned in a dangerously quiet tone that Pam recognized all too well.

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, fine. What would you like me to do?"

"You will go to pay our little Billy boy a visit, make sure he doesn't fuck it up too badly. You will stay and watch to make sure that pesky little maenad problem of ours is solved without any permanent harm to our most valued new employee."

"Employee," Pam snorted. "Right."

Eric stared her down, but just as she opened her mouth to apologize for overstepping her bounds, Sam cleared his throat. Both vampires whipped their heads around to glare at him, entirely unamused at the interruption.

Sam chose to ignore the dangerous ground he was treading and spoke up, figuring this was pretty much his only way out of this mess. "Oh, I believe I could help you out with that."

Pam hissed in displeasure, but stayed where she was as Eric zoomed over to her prisoner. "Oh, please do go on," he said, looking him up and down with amusement.

"I … well. My brother and I, we are hunters." Sam swallowed hard at the menacing glare the vampire was fixing on him, which showed no sign of getting the picture. "We hunt all kinds of things."

Eric quirked a brow.

"Supernatural things," Sam hurriedly elaborated.

"Is that so?" Eric's brow lifted even higher, his mouth curving into a sneer. "Tell me. Do you kill … _vampires_?"

Sam did his best not to flinch at the question, or the fangs that Eric now bared at him. "Uh … well … on occasion. But we usually deal more with angry spirits, demons, that kinda thing. Oh, and your occasional, uh … rogue demi-god."

"Your occasional rogue …." Eric repeated, trailing off as he burst out laughing. He turned around to face Pam. "Wherever did you find this one, Pamela?"

"I found him on the side of the road," Pam replied dryly, stepping closer. "He was draining a woman. At first I just assumed it was a vampire, but he claims she was a—a demon."

As soon as the word left her mouth, both vampires burst into another fit of laughter.

Sam glared in disbelief from one to the other. "Are you guys gonna giggle all night, or are you actually gonna try to get going on this hunt?"

That made Eric sober up real quick. There was just something about the wording of that sentence ….

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he turned back to look at the prisoner. "What did you say his name was, Pam?"

"I didn't." Pam replied. "It's … Sammy. Or Sam, I guess."

"Sam what?"

"I don't know."

Eric stared at Sam questioningly. "Well?"

As Sam considered his options, he noticed that the vampire was looking at him intently, practically eye-fucking him. Then, when it didn't accomplish anything except freak Sam the fuck out, the vampire looked more confused than Sam was feeling. "Whatever you're trying to do there, Mr. Northman, it isn't gonna work on me."

"Your name," Eric glowered, after he got over his initial shock.

Sam sighed in resignation. "Fine. It's Winchester."

Eric's eyes bugged out. "Wait, wait, _wait_. You're _Sam Winchester?_"

Sam blinked at him dumbly. "Uh … yeah?"

"Of Sam and Dean Winchester? From those Supernatural books? _You're real?_" Eric was so busy gushing, he barely registered the identical gasps and glares that came from Pam and Sam.

"You read those?" Sam asked in shock.

Eric turned away, only to be faced with Pam standing there with her jaw scraping the floor. "What? Yvetta left it lying around one day. I was bored."

Pam went into her trademark 'Yeah Right' pose, placing a hand on her hip and rolling her eyes.

"It's got everything you'd ever want," Eric continued. "Gory action, evil monsters, entertaining dialogue, hot sex." He turned around and gave Sam an appreciative look that made Sam feel dirty and hot and bothered all at the same time. "Even hot demon sex. Bonus."

Eric chuckled to himself, but sobered up in the next instant. Turning away from his shell-shocked audience, he suddenly realized he had just tried to convince a vampire—his child—of the merits of a paranormal smut novel. "Oh, fuck."

* * *

_Hahaha. Eric is a fangirl. Hope you enjoyed that one as much as I did:) So, jsyk- Dean will be making his entrance next chappie. I know I would like to know that info as a reader, so I thought I'd let y'all know ;D_

_Oh, and also, if y'all just can't get enough of me (rolls eyes self-deprecatingly) you can find me now on tumblr :_

_http:/nutellah00r . tumblr . com/_

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: As always, thanks to my fuckawesome beta chiisai-kitty._**

**_Oh, and the amazingly talented Mavrosal made this gorgeous banner for this fic. I posted it here:_**

**_http:/nutellah00r . tumblr . com/post/1081860540/monsters-have-feelings-too-banner-by-mavrosal_**

* * *

_First, Just a little review of where we left things..._

_Eric turned away, only to be faced with Pam standing there with her jaw scraping the floor. "What? Yvetta left it lying around one day. I was bored."_

_Pam went into her trademark 'Yeah Right' pose, placing a hand on her hip and rolling her eyes._

_"It's got everything you'd ever want," Eric continued. "Gory action, evil monsters, entertaining dialogue, hot sex." He turned around and gave Sam an appreciative look that made Sam feel dirty and hot and bothered all at the same time. "Even hot demon sex. Bonus."_

_Eric chuckled to himself, but sobered up in the next instant. Turning away from his shell-shocked audience, he suddenly realized he had just tried to convince a vampire—his child—of the merits of a paranormal smut novel. "Oh, fuck."_

* * *

Pam's ringing laughter broke the silence.

"What the hell?" Eric and Sam asked in unison, looking at each other with confusion before turning back to Pam.

"Oh god! I'm sorry," Pam choked out, holding up a finger to silently beg them to hold on as she tried to get a hold of herself. She lost the fight, doubling over and clutching her stomach.

"Oh god, oh god," she whispered, wiping the bloody tears from her eyes. "So that was you _brother_ writing you love notes, Sammy?" she cracked up again.

"I'm glad I could amuse you," Sam muttered. "And for the last time, it's _Sam_. Only my br—"

"Oh, I know, I know!" Pam interrupted. "Only your dear brother gets to call you that."

She burst into laughter once again at that.

Eric zoomed over to her, stopping mere inches from her face. "Enough. Don't make me smack you, Pamela"

Pam settled down.

"Seriously? Out of all that, the thing that really got you off was _that_? Maybe you _should_ really read the books; the brothers' relationship is quite heavy with homoerotic undertones, if you enjoy that sort of thing."

"Yeah. Seriously, Pamela." Sam mimicked.

"It's _Pam_," she hissed, turning a deathly glare on Sam. Reining herself in, she added, "Only my master may call me by my full human name."

Sam hiccupped a giggle, then another, before he caved and succumbed to the most adorable gigglefit. When it finally passed, he met Pam's icy glare and shrugged in response. "What? I guess we both have pet names we're overly sensitive about."

Pam narrowed her eyes at him. "So it would seem."

"Okay, okay. That will do, children." Eric chided. Turning around, he cocked his head to the right as he studied Sam's face. "Fine, Winchester. I'll believe you. So you are the real Sam Winchester, and hunters _are_ real. However, the question still remains: what _shall_ we do about it?"

"Eric," Pam piped up from his side. "Tell me you are _not_ seriously—"

Eric silenced Pam with a warning glare before returning his full attention back to Sam.

"You should untie me," Sam said through clenched teeth. "So I can help you kill this maenad thing."

"Should I, now?" The smirk was hard to miss in Eric's voice. "And tell me, _Sam_, do you have much experience killing these 'Maenad things'?"

"'Bout as much as you. Or her." Sam spat out, motioning to Pam with a flip of his fluffy hair. At Eric's dubious look, he quickly added, "But … I'm sure we can find someone who has."

"I see." Eric replied. "And by 'we', would you be referring to your other half, Dean?"

Sam simply glared in response, pursing his lips.

"I will take that as a yes." Eric paused, considering. "But that still doesn't solve our problem."

Eric ran a long, cool finger over Sam's stubbly skin, tracing his jaw line excruciatingly slow until his hand came to rest at the cleft of his chin. Cupping it, he tilted Sam's face up, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"And how do I know that you won't try to kill us at your first opportunity, _hunter_?"

Sam jerked his face out of Eric's grasp. "You have my word."

"Oh, well since you have his word," Pam sneered, rolling her eyes for added emphasis.

She was rewarded with an icy glare from both men.

"It is not that I doubt you are a man of your word," Eric mused, looking Sam up and down. "But I'm afraid you are going to have to do better than that. "

Sam looked at Eric imploringly.

"And don't give me those puppy dog eyes, either. I do not have an affinity towards anything remotely canine. Well, unless it's fangs, of course." Eric grinned, running his tongue most seductively over said fangs.

Sam lowered his head and let out a heavy sigh. "But I don't know what else I can give you," he mumbled.

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about that," Eric purred, his smile growing downright wicked. "I know just the thing."

He waited until Sam lifted his head once again before adding, "You will simply have to give me some … collateral."

"Collateral? Uh … I don't see what I could possibly have that a vampire would consider valuable enough to be 'collateral'."

Eric's grin turned feral, as he let his hand graze along the curve of Sam's collarbones lazily. "Now, now, Sammy boy. You really shouldn't sell yourself short like that. It is unbecoming." He purred. "Besides, _I_ don't have to consider it valuable—only you two do."

"_O-kaaay_. Did you, uh… have something in mind?"

"Indeed. You may leave your precious car with me. '67 Impala, if I am not mistaken?"

"The … _what?_" Sam sputtered. "Yeah right. Good luck with _that_."

"I must admit, I _am_ more of a Corvette man myself," Eric mused, stroking his chin as if he was pondering one of the world's greatest mysteries. "But, I _have_ always wanted to try out a classic Impala. I hear they are quite … spacious."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Uh … yeah. Okay. Why on earth would my brother _ever_ even consider leaving the Impala with you?"

Eric gave Sam a fangy grin that chilled him straight through to the bone. "Because he loves his brother. Does he not?"

Before Sam could manage to come up with any type of coherent response, Eric had motioned for Pam to come over and had her call Dean. As Pam put the phone up to Sam's face, Eric leaned down to Sam's free ear and whispered, "We are _not_ going to try anything cute, now are we?"

Sam locked gazes with the vampire. "And how do I know _you're_ not just gonna kill the both of us as soon as my brother gets here?" he hissed through gritted teeth, his well-used jaw clenching muscles working overtime.

Eric gave him the sweetest choir-boy smile and winked. "Because you have my word."

"_Sammy?_ That you?" Dean's panicked voice snapped Sam right out of his staring contest with his captor.

"Y-yeah, Dean," Sam stammered. "'s me."

"Thank fuck! You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Dude. What the hell? I thought we agreed you weren't ever gonna do that again. Do you know how many messages I left you? Where the hell are you even?"

"Dean—"

"And what the fuck is going on? You better have a damn good explanation, man, or so help me god, I'll—"

"Dean! D'you want any actual answers or what?"

"Fine. Go 'head."

"Okay. I'm at this bar in Shreveport. It's called Fangtasia."

"_Fang_tasia? What is that, some sorta weird-ass sex bondage club for those vampire groupie types? Dude. I'm happy you're finally going out and enjoyin' yourself, but if you're gonna go the freaky-dikky kinky demon route, can you please spare me the gory details?"

"A sex bondage… what? No. Well, I dunno. But I'm here on a job."

Dean sighed. "Please … please just tell me you're not all tied up. In some sex dungeon."

"Well …."

"Oh, hell."

"Well it's not like it's by my own choice, Dean. _God!_"

"Yeah, it never is, is it?"

"Dean! Just listen, 'kay?" When Dean remained silent on the other side, Sam went on, "I need you to come meet me here. For the job, you know?"

"What kinda job?" Dean shot back suspiciously.

"Come on, man. I really can't get into it all right now. Just get here and I'll explain everything to you then."

"Hang on. You can't even tell me a little about this place?" Sam clenched his jaw in frustration. "Is it… is it a _funky_ kinda place?"

Sam gave Eric a weak half-smile as he noticed the vampire's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Uh… no. I mean, I thought so at first, but … I was wrong. I think." Sam gave Eric a significant don't-you-dare-prove-me-wrong look as he waited for his brother's response.

"O-kaaay. Uh… guess I'll be headin' over now then."

Sam barely got a chance to say goodbye before Pam slammed the phone shut and slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans, letting her hand linger there _much_ longer than was necessary.

"Call me when the Winchester boy gets here," Eric called over his shoulder as he walked towards the stairs. "Oh, and you may as well untie this one."

"What?" Pam spun around. "But …."

Eric shot her a warning glance. "Come now. We would not want to give our soon-to-arrive guest the wrong impression, now would we?"

Pam hung her head down in deference and complied with her orders. But that didn't stop her from sulking as she did so. Her hissed words were just loud enough for Sam to make out, even though he half wished he hadn't. "Fuck a goddamn zombie. I never get to have any fun anymore."


End file.
